Spud - Learning to Fly

by John van de Ruit

  Saturday 24th October

  ‘We’re gonna starve to death!’ Fatty gasped in horror as he examined what had been dished up on his lunch plate. (A slice of tomato, a spoon of potato salad, and a rock-hard bun.)

  ‘Well, you’re meant to be the house catering rep,’ came the tetchy reply from Rambo as he moved the potato salad around his plate with his fork.

  ‘What am I supposed to do – turn five loaves into five thousand?’ protested Fatty as he studied his dry bun.

  ‘Well, at least you could find out what day we’re going to run out of food and have to start eating each other,’ said Rambo, his voice rising in anger.

  ‘Okay,’ said Fatty dousing his tomato slice with white pepper. ‘Let’s say we did have to eat somebody … who would be first?’

  ‘Garlic!’ came the loud chorus of replies.

  Garlic didn’t see the funny side of being unanimously elected the first roast after the food runs out.

  ‘Dibs on his liver!’ shouted Rambo and prodded Garlic’s midriff with a fork.

  ‘Why me?’ wailed Garlic, desperately protecting his organs with his arms.

  ‘Because you have skin like a pig,’ Rambo told him.

  ‘I bet you Garlic tastes like bacon,’ said Boggo.

  Then we all roared with laughter because of how stupid that sounded. We left the dining hall in high spirits, apart from Bacon Garlic who hung back nervously like he didn’t quite trust us any more.

  Sunday 25th October

  The electricity came on for a brief ten seconds, then it took the rest of the day off.

  Fatty drew the line at porridge for dinner, and stormed into the kitchens to give the caterer a piece of his mind. He returned five minutes later looking ashen and horrified. He collapsed back down onto his bench and said, ‘We’re going down. It’s like Ethiopia in there!’

  Fatty said the entire situation was diabolical. All the roads to the school have been washed away, as have half the roads in the Midlands. The kitchens have completely run out of food and they only have porridge left for another day.

  ‘The caterer is on the brink of quitting,’ said Fatty. ‘He’s flipping out big time.’

  ‘Well, we may have to eat Garlic after all,’ said Rambo.

  Then Boggo set off on a long rant about how the school should refund us our money for this. He accused The Glock of being asleep at the wheel and having no plan Β in place in case of emergency.

  16:00 Good news at last … The phone lines have been restored. Unfortunately there was an instant queue of twenty boys outside the phone room including Fatty so I didn’t bother.

  Monday 26th October

  Porridge and darkness.

  JR Ewing was thrashed 6 by Viking after he was caught hanging Stutterheim out of the window by his feet.

  17:00 Phoned home. It didn’t sound like my mother believed me about the storm and the electricity cuts. She said they had also had some rain before changing the subject.

  Tuesday 27th October

  It has begun. Despite the darkness and lack of food, the teachers have kicked off their dire warnings of examination failure and its consequences. We are now at least two weeks behind the other schools. How the teachers all know this when the phones have been cut off is a complete mystery.

  Oh no. I’m afraid I’m far too streetwise to fall for these cheap scare tactics. They may have driven Garlic into near hysteria, but taunts of failure don’t wash with Spud Milton. I still don’t buy the fact that anyone out there in the big wide world will ever ask me for my third year results. It’s just the kind of propaganda the National Party has been getting away with for years.

  14:00 Three trucks laden with food and supplies pulled up at the kitchen entrance. Fatty was there to welcome the trucks and examine exactly what food had arrived.

  18:00 Lamb stew and rice for dinner! It was one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever tasted. I pity vegetarians everywhere.

  Wednesday 28th October

  Still no electricity!

  Confirmation Class

  Reverend Bishop said the storm was definitely an act of God and we should be humbled by his awe and power.

  ‘Why would God want to screw up the school, Father?’ asked Rambo.

  The chaplain blustered and rambled on like all priests do when you ask them why terrible things happen.

  ‘Do you think God suspected there might be sodomy being carried out here like Sodom and Gomorrah?’ asked Rambo innocently.

  The chaplain blushed and told Rambo that that was unlikely because the storm had affected numerous other areas in the province.

  Boggo nodded his head at the front desk and said that God was probably trying to destroy the inbred community of Fort Nottingham but missed. The chaplain conceded that this was possible.

  ‘God works in mysterious ways, boys,’ he said, looking uncertainly out the window.

  ‘You telling me,’ said Rambo.

  And then the lights came on.

  The vestry was suddenly awash with bright neon light. Nobody said anything. We just stared up at the light, waiting for it to disappear again. But it didn’t.

  ‘Let there be light!’ shouted Boggo leaping to his feet.

  Reverend Bishop genuinely thought it was a miracle and leapt up and down with excitement shouting ‘Hallelujah!’ He then said a long prayer in a trembling voice about how God had given us the sign of the light.

  After the prayer, he exclaimed, ‘God is beckoning you, boys! This is your moment.’

  Thankfully, the siren rang for the first time in over a week, because Fatty had become greatly excited by the ‘miracle’ that we had just witnessed and had both his hands raised with an urgent question.

  It was like a whole new world out there. The buzz in the quad is back. Mother Nature’s siege has been broken.

  Friday 30th October

  Fatty and I returned to the dormitory after a languid visit to the tuck shop to find Vern prancing around the room wearing only a pair of my underpants. He didn’t seem to think this was dodgy behaviour, despite his infamous underpants thievery and controversial nest making in first year.

  17:00 Notice Board Alert

  All third years to report to the Great Hall at 20:00 tonight

  Boggo’s convinced that somebody, somewhere is deeply in the dwang and currently packing his trunk.

  ‘It’s probably another one of Glock’s pathetic sieges,’ said Rambo.

  Just in case it dragged on for hours, Fatty took along extra snacks and I brought the laborious Tess of the d’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy. How The Guv maintains it’s an example of a fine novel is beyond me …

  Not for the first time, a relaxing long weekend at home has been snatched from our grasp. Instead, seventy-five third years are converging on the Umgeni Valley Gorge for a leadership camp. The third years from each house will reside in a different section of the reserve under the watchful eye of two leadership instructors. These two instructors will observe us for three days and then fill out a report, which will be sent to Viking who will then use this as his basis for selecting his head of house and prefects. The Glock issued a long and emotional speech on house prefects being the most important entity in the school after him. The seven housemasters all nodded along to this in what Boggo later called ‘a nauseating display of arse-licking’.

  The leadership camp announcement was a terrible shock for Fatty who cried, ‘If rope climbing and stupid obstacle courses are what’s going to decide the prefects, then they might as well just give all the positions to the rugby players and leave us alone!’

  He didn’t mention it, but the real reason Fatty was so upset was because it’s now impossible for him to see Penny until December.

  Boggo was strangely inspired by the leadership camp idea. After returning from the hall he immediately kicked Plump Graham off a phone call to his mother and dialled up his secret weapon in Tzaneen for wilderness survival tips.

  Saturday 31st October

  I made anot
her stylish 23 runs for the thirds in our emphatic victory over Lincoln. I bowled one over and took a wicket before Norm (I don’t believe in spinners) Wade instructed our captain Jason Wilson to remove me from the bowling attack and bring on the fast bowlers.

  Norm (I don’t believe in spinners) Wade told me after the innings that he was using my spin bowling as a partnership breaker, and that it was the job of the fast bowlers to take all the wickets.

  It still gives me great pleasure to watch his face drop after I’ve taken a wicket. It’s my small rebellion, on behalf of the cause of maligned spinners everywhere.

  My father had a complete nightmare today. He drove all the way up to school only to discover that our cricket match was taking place back in Durban. He then roared back down to the coast and was caught in two speed traps, one of which he bribed himself out of. When the station wagon finally arrived at the Lincoln field, we had just shaken hands with the opposition and were packing up our bags to leave. My father was furious and blamed me for the disastrous wild goose chase that cost him over five hundred bucks in petrol, tolls, fines and bribes. ‘I thought you were making a fortune at the pub?’ I replied after Dad had finished with his bad tempered rage. He seemed a little stymied by my question and eventually said, ‘When you’re rolling in cash, that’s when you realise time is money.’

  He then said he was off to the pub and left without shaking my hand.

  Norm Wade, despite not believing in spinners, is about the only cricket master who doesn’t drink in the opposition staff room after the match. He was first onto the bus and read two cricket magazines cover to cover on the long ride home.

  I listened to U2’s Achtung Baby, and because I had no other reading material I analysed the words for each song in the album sleeve. For some reason the album makes me highly emotional. The words are sexual and dark. In fact they aren’t songs, they’re dark poems of love gone wrong. For the first time in ages my thoughts turned to girls, and to two in particular that may well haunt me for the rest of my life.

  How far are you gonna go?

  Until you lose your way back home

  You’ve been tryin to throw your arms around the world …

  Sunday 1st November (The Dying Season)

  Fatty wished me heartfelt luck for the month of November.

  ‘It’s the dying season, Spuddy,’ he said with a grim look on his face.

  I nodded, and informed him that I already had it marked down in the diary.

  ‘Then you’d better also mark down Friday 13th next week, because that’s going to be massive.’

  Fatty watched me noting down Friday 13th in my dairy and then said, ‘Howzat, Spuddy – Friday the 13th and the dying season in one month.’ He shook his head in amazement and said, ‘Now that’s a perfect storm.’

  Monday 2nd November

  Boggo, Garlic and Vern have begun an intensive training regime for this weekend’s leadership camp. I asked if I could join them, but Boggo refused, saying they were working on tactics and secret plans. I watched the three of them marching off towards the gym like they were on important business.

  Did ten press-ups in my cubicle when nobody was around. Discovered that I’m badly unfit and have no strength in my arms whatsoever.

  Tuesday 3rd November

  Even The Guv has jumped on the bandwagon! He gave us a long lecture on how far we were behind in our yearly revision. He blamed us for being incompetent and predicted wholesale failure in our coming exams.

  After class I took The Guv to task about his fear-mongering. He told me he was being bribed by The Glock to ratchet up the heat in his classes.

  ‘He’s offered me a night with his wife if I successfully terrorise my students,’ he confided, before adding, ‘I’ll do my best to dominate on both fronts.’

  I laughed loudly at his joke. At least, I hope it was a joke.

  Wednesday 4th November

  Confirmation class focused on the taking of the sacrament. Reverend Bishop used red grape juice as the blood of Christ and small ginger biscuits to represent the body of Christ for our trial run. He then demonstrated how we should kneel at the altar and cup our hands and shouldn’t ever lunge or gulp at the holy chalice.

  We took turns kneeling in front of the chaplain and then sipped from the chalice in his hands. Unfortunately, we couldn’t rehearse the body of Christ section because the chaplain’s biscuits were stolen during the second prayer. In the end we had to mime it, which didn’t quite feel right.

  Fatty denied stealing the stand-in body of Christ, despite there being obvious traces of ginger biscuit on his chin.

  Friday 6th November

  11:00 The first years charged for the exits, eager to grab their bags and flee for their lives. Second years were next, walking at a good pace, but still chatting and laughing with their mates and foes. The third years looked sneaky and distracted, with each boy plotting and scheming about how he was going to tackle the Umgeni Valley, while the matrics, who only have a weekend of slogging ahead, exited the hall slowly, chatting in small groups about what everybody else is spotting or not spotting. The post matrics very seldom lower themselves to attend assembly, since they already consider themselves to be university students and above all other school activities except for sport. Pike wasn’t there either, which meant I didn’t have to feel insecure or alarmed.

  UMGENI VALLEY LEADERSHIP COURSE

  11:30 Loud squabbling breaks out on the bus between the different houses’ third years. Rambo wins the argument for us outright, after slamming the head of an irritating Century third year called Gibbo into the seat in front of him.

  12:20 Bus drops us all off and we are met by a distinguished looking gentleman with silver hair and an immaculate khaki uniform. His lapel is full of badges and he seems to be the man in charge. Long lecture on the history of the Umgeni Valley.

  12:55 Crazy Eight pile onto the back of a bakkie driven by an athletic looking blonde female ranger. Boggo perks up considerably and assures us he’ll romp the ranger by Sunday morning at the latest.

  13:20 We arrive at our little camp, marked by the colour red. Ranger Nicky introduces herself, and then orders us to change into our bush clothes and take a seat around the unlit fire.

  13:25 Ranger Nicky isn’t impressed with general Crazy Eight attire, especially Rambo’s bright red REVOLUTION SUCKS T-shirt.

  13:27 Ranger Nicky begins a lecture on teamwork, mutual friendship and respect for the bush.

  13:37 She introduces Ranger Neil, who leaps out of a nearby tent shouting ‘Gotcha!’ He then skips up to us and says, ‘Hello hello hello!’

  Nobody greets him.

  13:38 Ranger Nicky announces that Ranger Neil has just joined the Umgeni Valley team, after working for three months in the Tsitsikamma forest school camp.

  13:39 Rambo asks Ranger Neil why he only lasted three months in the Tsitsikamma. Neil stutters and stammers and eventually says that he prefers Natal to the Cape. Boggo raises an eyebrow and Ranger Nicky soldiers on.

  13:50 Crazy Eight are shown to their tent, which consists of two triple bunk beds and a single bed. Rambo immediately seizes the single bed, and Garlic and Boggo grab the lower level. Simon and I choose the middle level and Vern and Fatty are left with the top.

  13:51 Garlic and Fatty argue over who should have the lower bunk. Garlic cites fear of heights, Fatty cites fear of the bed collapsing. Neither yields, and both lay claim to the bottom bunk.

  13:54 Boggo rubs his naked groin all over the sheets of his bed in case anyone was planning a forced removal.

  13:55 Simon informs Boggo that the bed may be infected and he could develop a genital rash.

  13:56 Boggo charges out of the tent and into the bush with a bottle of Dettol and a box of tissues.

  13:59 Spud Milton ordered by Ranger Neil to return his diary to his tent without giving an adequate reason. Loud sniggers and taunts from Crazy Eight.

  14:00-18:30 Rope tying, fire making, flag raising, badge sewing, compass reading, ma
p deciphering, star gazing, sermons on teamwork, tree identification, survival tips, leadership lectures, hygiene lectures, further sermons on teamwork …

  It may have been interesting if we hadn’t done and heard it all before during Adventure Club last year. Most of us were bored stiff by hearing Ranger Nicky’s tips, and Ranger Neil’s irritating sing-song voice and that ever fixed grin only made the time pass slower.

  After dinner we split into two teams and had a charades competition. Unfortunately, I had Vern in my team so we lost badly.

  After the competition we were asked to choose a partner who we could trust with our lives. Rambo said he trusted none of us and that set Neil off on another Kumbaya love and respect thy neighbour lecture.

  I paired off with Fatty. Simon and Rambo paired off, while the combination of Boggo and Garlic meant that Vern was left standing alone and pulling out hair.

  Ranger Nicky seemed a little uncertain about how to counter Vern’s cretinism and asked him if he was all right. Rain Man turned his back on her and stared into the fire with demented eyes, still plucking away at his head.

  ‘Vern?’ said Ranger Neil in a loud voice as he stepped forward like he was just the right man to handle the situation. ‘Which group would you like to join?’ he asked like he was talking to a man on the verge of leaping off a ten-storey building. Rain Man kept his back to the two rangers and looked around at the three groups of two dotted around the fire. He then pointed at Rambo and Simon.

  ‘I refuse,’ Rambo said firmly. Ranger Neil then gave Rambo another sermon on team building and mutual respect. Rambo listened with his arms folded until Ranger Neil had finished and responded, ‘If Vern’s in my team then I’m going it alone.’